Down The Aisle...

A singluar focus on my life in Sydney. I was "single", then I became "engaged" and now I'm married - but thats another story...

Monday, February 28, 2005

What Will They Think Of Next?

It is widely acknowledged that communication is the key to a successful relationship. And what could be more convenient for maintaining that communication than a mobile phone, right? Over the past few years, it seems that mobiles have become an integral part of dating and relationships and due to our seeming reliance on this form of ever advancing technology, we have also seen the following innovations which I find hilarious.

For those of you who live in Australia, if you phone 0419 317 446, you will reach the Rejection Line. This number will lead you straight to a voicemail message where a cheery male voice will tell you “Hi. You’ve called the Rejection Line. The person who gave you this number never wants to see you again. We’d like to take this opportunity to officially reject you.”. The guy then goes on to say that you can leave a message or send an sms but when the spiel ends, a programmed message will tell you there is no more room for messages.

If you find yourself in need of an escape before you reach goodnight kiss territory or the need to actually give out your phone number however, there is another number you can call (which I can’t remember). By surreptitiously ringing this number and hanging up, you will prompt a phone call a few minutes later from someone who will guide you through a convincing conversation that will result in you having to leave. Immediately. Many people tend to use a variation of this where they ask a friend to call sometime during the night to check up on them or ring a friend from the bathroom and ask them to call back but not everyone has this option.

Sometimes it is the actual using of mobile phones that causes all the problems. When some of us get a bit drunk, we think it’s a great time to ring ex’s, partners, colleagues, bosses, enemies and other assorted people. It inevitably isn’t and this is where Virgin’s blacklist service could be of some use. Apparently, all a Virgin customer (no pun intended) has to do is dial 333 and then the requested number will be blacklisted till 6am the following morning. So no more dodgy, incoherent calls made in the wee small hours of the morning after half a bottle of tequila.

There are of course other innovations such as mobile dating, soon to be launched here in Oz by Match.com, “shag phones”, his-and-her pre-paid mobiles where only the owners know the numbers so they are safe to answer as lustily as they like and virtual text pals, available in dominatrix, bunny boiler or sex slave. By far the most cheeky however, is the VibraExciter. As I understand it, the signal from a mobile phone will trigger a vibrating bullet for 20 seconds when an sms is received and for the duration of a call and up to 25 seconds after it has disconnected. So aren’t you glad we have mobiles?

Friday, February 25, 2005

Slightly Pointless

Well I guess to start with you definitely get points for being hot. Really hot as it were - which you were told. You also probably get a few points for making contact as you said you would. No one likes someone who says they’ll call but then doesn’t. You lose half those points however for taking your own sweet time about it. No one likes being put off either. You get those points back I think for pursuing a situation where the logistics really were daunting but you lose three times that amount for acting like you really didn’t want to be there when you eventually were. Even if you did have a hangover. Its rude and one then wonders what was the point.

On the other hand though, bonus points can be awarded for being completely honest in what you said and in response to those questions you answered. You were open with your feelings which isn’t always easy. It must be noted however that these points would definitely not be as high as they could have been as you only answered the questions that you actually wanted to, not the one you didn’t. So all in all Gauchegirl finishes up with (a very biased) 7 out of 10 on the scale for whether chicks are worth seeing again. She’s quite nice and she looks alright but is a little high maintenance in that you occasionally have to figure out what’s actually going on in her head.

As least that’s one possibility that may have resulted from some previous weekends. I may have fared much worse regardless of whether or not the guy in question felt all of the above was in fact obvious. I may be grossly underestimating my required level of 'maintenance' or wildly exaggerating the desire others may have to see me more than once (or in this case twice). I may also be making a whole lot of bother over nothing - which it appears this all will amount to in any case. Either way, I guess I would say that there were some things that I now wish I could not so much change, as make up for. A few things have felt unresolved but you get that in life, and then you move on.

So I guess it still remains to be seen what will actually turn my head (and keep it turned). Or maybe thats not really the best way to put it. The Australian Clearance Diving Team jogged past me twice the other morning and I must admit that I did take notice. Seriously though, everything in life teaches you something so now I'll have to see if I've learned. You have to get points for trying though, right?

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

Safety First

From the time we are children, a large part of our education is directed towards helping us to identify potential danger so that we can remain healthy, if not happy. We are warned about Stranger Danger, told we should Slip, Slop, Slap and to ensure we Clickety-Clack Front and Back. We are also advised that we should always Stop, Look and Listen. As we grow older, these lessons are no less relevant, and in the case of Stop, Look and Listen, can be considered good advice for more than merely crossing the road.

Personally, I believe these are crucial words of wisdom for anyone who is dating or even thinking about it. It is all too easy to find yourself in conflict with someone because you haven’t been paying attention or you assume you know better. And I’m not talking here about trying to decipher some oblique reference or pick up on subtle or nondescript body language. I’m talking here about words like ‘no’, ‘don’t’ and ‘stop’, which I think most people would agree are hardly ambiguous.

Let me say that I am speaking on behalf of more than one woman here when I say the following. Funnily enough I meant it when I said I didn’t want your tongue halfway down my ear. It didn’t turn me on and made me think of a drooling dog. You obviously thought I was just playing hard to get as you suggested I must’ve been scared that I liked it a little too much. I would have to ask why though when I threatened severe bodily harm. Next time I will be sure to carry through so you can be sure I’m serious.

And please believe me when I tell you your constant sarcasm ticks me off. When you continually make jokes that belittle, degrade and insult things that I enjoy or care about, it does not exactly endear you to me. Good-natured ribbing can be both entertaining and amusing however to have one’s judgement constantly called into question is tiresome. If I am exhibiting such ‘bad taste’ in some areas, perhaps I should seriously reconsider the company I keep which may possibly make us both a lot happier.

Also, when I expressed my dislike of being wrestled on the floor, I was not trying to use reverse psychology. ‘Stop’ did not actually mean please continue, I’m having so much fun here and ‘don’t’ wasn’t another way of saying I hope you never get tired of this because I think its hilarious. I know I take a while to make my mind up on a few things and I know that I occasionally change it on others but it would really be appreciated if you’d give me the benefit of the doubt on something I tell you I don’t like. That way I won’t have to take matters into my own hands.

N.B. I’ll admit this was inspired by things I’ve been told by several people but I did take a bit of poetic license so apologies to friends who feel they recognise something that may have been misrepresented.

Monday, February 21, 2005

Daydream Believer

Unfortunately, there are frequently situations in my life that do not play out exactly as they have previously done so in my head. Other people don’t say what they are supposed to, act the way they should or want what I expect them to. More often than not, reality just doesn’t quite measure up to the movie in my mind. Or perhaps I should say - I daydream far too much.

Whenever there is something I’m confused or unsure about, I often run through scenes in my head to help me figure it out. If there’s something I want to say, I might write and rewrite the script till it sounds right. And if there’s something that I want, then I might imagine ways in which I might get it. Some people might say that those are the tools of self-motivation and positive reinforcement but others might just realise that I have a rather active fantasy life.

In addition to exploring scenarios that I have previously been in or anticipate finding myself in, I also tend to create ones that are somewhat unrelated to my life. So I would have to say that at present, I have had quite an extensive and varied dating history that is purely in my head (or only in my dreams). A few of my girlfriends and I have previously lamented the fact that guys just don’t behave like they do in books and movies. We do realise this is possibly an unrealistic expectation but if you’re going to have a fantasy, why not make it perfect?

So in my perfect world there are fireworks and butterflies galore. There’s laughter and fun and there’s sass and style. There is no feeling like a complete git cause you have no idea what to say. There are no raging insecurities where you agonise over what someone else thinks about you or feels for you. You don’t second guess your decision to be with someone, sure that any problems you might have with each other can be worked out and everything does always work out in the end. Just like you hoped it would.

So now with such a history, I guess I am waiting for a reality that will give my fantasies a good run for their money. I won’t say I want something to live up to them because at the end of the day I’m not sure I do want something exactly like what I’ve imagined (cause so far its been a bit two-dimensional really). It’d be nice to have something that holds surprises and challenges for me as well as new possibilities though. And a guarantee that it was all going to work out in the end wouldn’t go astray either.

Friday, February 18, 2005

Dancing Queens

There are some things that are almost too stupid for words. And I say ‘almost’ cause I thought I’d talk about this one. It’s the response to the question of why dancing is so important to women that I found on the net. The author felt that women dance because their bodies are more elastic and they revel more easily in their emotional energy. Dance also apparently enables them to connect on a deeper level with their partners as they can judge how much they are valued and appreciated by a male who dances with them. Huh?

The response also stated that any awkwardness on the male’s part would count for little next to an obvious enjoyment of being near a woman on the dance floor. Sure. Whatever you reckon buddy. And I do believe this had to have been written by a guy. I’m sure that no self respecting woman could ever say that they found dancing exciting because when someone wants to dance with them, the interest lights up their inner feelings of glee.

The author did have some ideas that I thought were a little more on track. To start dancing with someone is, I think, a statement to everyone present that you find them attractive. I also think that it’s easy for a woman to be playful and to use dance as an opportunity to find out if a man can return the gesture. I don’t however think that dance is a ticket to ride. For some it’s more an opportunity to crash and burn.

If you’ve ever been to a nightclub and watched guys dance up to various women you will know that it’s not always successful. Believe it or not, some women are quite happy dancing by themselves and do not ‘require’ a partner to have a good time. Some women don’t like being grabbed or manhandled when a guy decides to try out his Patrick Swayze imitation and some women find it frustrating when its obvious that the person they are dancing with is hearing a completely different rhythm in their head.

And then there are those women who really don’t like to dance. I’d have to say that I’m not actually one of them but I have a few friends who can think of nothing worse than going out to pubs, clubs or parties where their only other option to participating would be watching. Something they'd find equally as unpleasant. Whether or not you enjoy dancing though, it is undoubtedly an integral part of today’s dating culture and something I think we have all done at one time or another. The trick is however, to find someone who does it like you do - whether that means cutting up the floor or sneaking out the back door.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

Mnemonically Speaking

As language has grown and evolved over the years, we have seen both phrases and names shortened down to just their first letters. All Australian children learn about the ANZACs in school and most of us figure out that QANTAS must stand for something because you don’t exactly say it like you spell it. I’m pretty sure that everyone of my acquaintance would be able to understand a reference to an ETA or being MIA and I think everyone I know who is able to understand the concept of an IQ, knows it is related to intelligence.

There are a few lesser known mnemonics and references around however which are slowly trying to maintain their tenuous foothold in the English language. Some have been more effective than others but I do wonder whether I will be able to say the following in ten years time: I know a few people who are no stranger to PDA’s, enjoy having BONPA buddies and seem to have the personal motto of FIGJAM to inspire them each day. Although to be honest, whether it actually holds any relevance or meaning may also be the question in ten years time as morals and attitudes slowly shift.

For those of you who haven’t encountered these abbreviations yet, let me enlighten you. A PDA is a Public Display of Affection that may consist of the holding of hands in the full view of others right through to the behaviour found in nightclubs where it appears occasionally that ‘anything goes’. Oddly enough though, it would seem that some people tend to graduate from engaging in overt PDA’s to becoming BONPA buddies where any relationship reverts to a Bonking Only, No Public Appearances one. This concept has also been expressed by the euphemism ‘naked friends’ and various other cant phrases.

FIGJAM is a relatively new one I think and in my opinion, unlikely to take off but I did hear it the other night and it summed up someone I knew perfectly. The F actually stands for something I won’t write, the tamer version of which would possibly be something like Far-out. The rest stands for I’m Good, Just Ask Me. As more people seem to compromise less in relationships, this could be indicative of the way we view ourselves and what interaction we have with others.

Like the behaviour associated with the other mnemonics, we may be adapting our values to move with the times or maybe its merely that as some say, life imitates art. When someone comes up with something new, we adapt to give it validity. On the other hand, maybe some of us just like being clever and want to introduce something and make it ‘in’.

Monday, February 14, 2005

V-Day

Well today was that one day of the year when we all at least think on whether we are single or not. It’s the day that florists and the owners of Hallmark alike are all quite grateful for, a day that many of us participate in and a few of us really do enjoy. If I could make the title all pink and flashing for this entry then I probably would. Today my friends, was Valentines Day. And I must confess that I was technically desperate and dateless yet again. It was not however, for want of possibilities.

On the lead up to February 14th, there was plenty of publicity aimed at those not already in a relationship. Singles websites were skywriting their web addresses across the heavens, posters were everywhere, commercials were on tv and emails were flying left, right, and centre. Basically, anyone who could think of an excuse to use today as a marketing tool was doing so. From big business to small, from bars to supermarkets, everyone was getting in on the act.

Down at King Street Wharf, Cargo and RSVP were hosting a singles party complete with a DJ flown in from Ibiza and The Slip Inn was inviting you to come and see if you could meet your own prince. In the Rocks you could attend a traffic light party where a green outfit would suggest that you were willing and able, orange, that you were open to persuasion and red, that you weren’t. Over at Mrs MacQuarie’s Chair, you could soak up the romantic atmosphere at the moonlight cinema and there were numerous other events going on in the city.

If large gatherings were not really your scene though, then there were other amusements on offer. Cereal Dating was the one I thought sounded most entertaining. Over at Bondi Junction, both Woolies and Coles were hosting a singles night whereby you were supposed to place an upside-down box of cereal in your trolley to indicate you were trawling the aisles for talent. Your cereal choice was also intended to indicate the type of person you were after, ie. Nutri-Grain for a sporty single or Just-Right for a career oriented companion.

Although there were a large number of things happening today, I chose to have a somewhat quieter Monday. I went out and had dinner with a group of friends and we celebrated the night together. I definitely enjoyed the evening and I do not begrudge the fact that I was not able to spend it with a ‘date’ but at the same time, it is easy to get caught up in the consumer driven nature of the day and I can’t help but think, maybe I’ll have better luck next year?

Friday, February 11, 2005

Its All Gone To The Dogs

Most of us know the proper name for a female dog and most of us have probably heard a man being described as the son of one at one time or another. One could therefore argue however, that the son was then indeed also a dog and I’ve heard it suggested that if more women thought along these lines then they might be a lot happier. Let me explain what I mean.

Owning a dog is a big responsibility. You must ensure that they are always fed and looked after and that that they have enough to entertain them so they don’t start chewing up your belongings. You must give them love and affection and be aware for example, that it is unfair to try and keep a large dog in a small apartment. Having a dog is also a commitment that is both financial and emotional and one you should take most seriously.

When you are choosing a dog, you will often have a breed preference in mind beforehand and usually, this has as much if not more to do with temperament as with looks. A Labrador may be desired as they are a somewhat placid family type dog but some do have a tendency to stray or explore strange duck fetishes in a park I’ve heard. Golden Retrievers occasionally have difficulty with the word no and I have seen Chihuahuas be verbally abusive and territorial. German Shepherds on the other hand are intelligent, energetic and loyal but require a lot of energy to keep up with them.

There is also the consideration of whether you lean more towards the mongrel or the purebred. If at all possible, it is wise to make a home visit before you commit as they do say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. By observing how a dog acts and adapts to strangers however, you may get a feel for their nature. You must be mindful though, that if you are going for a more mature dog as a companion, rather than a new puppy, it is a widely held belief that you can’t teach an old dog, new tricks.

So whether you’re after a lap dog, a working dog, a family dog or maybe even a guard dog, it is not really a decision you should make lightly. When taking on the responsibility, you should identify what your preferences are early on and be prepared to offer a good home. When treated well, the dog is man’s best friend and it should never be preferable to give him away to a new home. For the dog or for the owner. And that’s about all I have to say really. Btw, does anyone even believe this junk?!?

Wednesday, February 09, 2005

The Five Stages

It is hard for anyone to lose someone for whom they care and any real loss will usually result in the five stages of grieving, especially when that loss is due to rejection. Whether the relationship lasted for twenty years (or indeed twenty minutes), people will often start with denial and move through depression, bargaining and anger as they aim for acceptance. Or as I like to think about it, navigate their way through neurotic city on their way to post-breakup land.

Denial is really your first port of call and is also known as ‘There Must Be Some Mistake Street’ or ‘There Will Be A Rational Explanation Avenue’. If you can’t quite figure out which end is which and really believe that you shouldn’t be here then you probably are. Signs that you may be here could be feeling alone whilst in your partners presence, when you continually make up excuses to explain their neglect or when stalking becomes your new favourite pass time. If you find yourself by any of these signposts however, they pretty much all point to Depression.

Depression itself is a pretty big place. It’s the whole suburb of ‘What’s Wrong With Me??’. Its surrounded by a moat and the roads within tend to curve in on themselves so you may find yourself going round in circles. The weather here is terrible wherever you happen to be and even though misery loves company, the people are not always helpful. Occasionally though, you may meet someone who can inspire you to jump across the border into new territory.

If you haven’t got a long enough stride, you may land on the little bargaining island of ‘If Only…’. Here, you promise all sorts of things if you can just make it the whole way across. You may also imagine all the ways things could have worked out differently. You do need to be careful however, not to lose your confidence or you might end up back where you came from. If you have a long stride on the other hand, you’ll end up in the zone of Anger which is made up of ‘What’s Wrong With Him!’, and just north of that, ‘What’s Wrong With Them!!’.

Its not a very hard place to recognise as here you’re likely to feel that boiling oil followed by drawing and quartering would be too light a sentence for your ex. You may methodically deface every picture of the two of you and then burn them and you may hope you are around when someone breaks their heart so you can laugh and rub it in. Of course you may also choose to just studiously avoid any and all meetings with them and refuse to even mention their name. Whichever route you choose, it’s these things that you will need to get over to truly arrive at forgiveness and acceptance.

Also known as the post-breakup land of ‘What’s His Name Again?’, this is where you will have stopped reading their horoscope and no longer need to have conversations with their memory. It is also where you will be truly glad to know they are happy with someone else. For some of us however, it definitely takes a while to get here and I think we would all agree that we wish it wasn’t easier said than done!

Monday, February 07, 2005

A Little Less Slobber

I recently went to a singles night arranged by one of the internet sites I have been involved with over the past twelve months. Unfortunately I was unsuccessful in meeting anyone I would have liked to stay in contact with and I must say that unlike the Lock and Key party, I was not really impressed with many of the guys present either. It wasn’t my scene or my style. Although I wasn’t by any means the youngest there, I was definitely one of the younger ones but outside of the age factor, I’ve actually never found myself attracted to guys who drool.

Now don’t get me wrong here. I am often flattered to find out if people find me attractive and when I go to a function, I do make an effort to dress up but when a guy can’t form a coherent sentence due to the difficulty in getting around the litre of saliva he’s starting to share with polite company, I’m not thinking baby, come ring my number. Far from it in fact. At this particular singles party the other night, I was actually thinking about The Newcastle Song.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the lyrical genius of Bob Hudson (and I am actually assuming that’s all of you), The Newcastle Song was perhaps his biggest hit which topped the Australian charts in 1975. I find it hilarious as it tells the story of ‘young Norm’ and of some girl who can’t be named due to the nature of her tale. Both of their stories are then somewhat randomly linked by a chorus which consists of – don’t you ever let a chance go by, oh lord, don’t you ever let a chance go by.

The ‘song’ itself goes on for quite a few minutes and really contains more talking than singing. We first hear the tale of young Norm who cruises down Hunter street in Newcastle in his hotted up car just looking for the right girl to pull up beside and crack on to. And this ‘cracking on to’ consists of him leaning out the window and saying, real suave like, “G’day. Hows it goin’. Do you do it” and then what follows is a rather drawn out sound that one assumes a mentally retarded person might make. Something between a ‘huuuhhhh’ and ‘whwoo’.

Towards the end of his tale, young Norm, after cracking on to a beautiful sheila, is being hassled by her 6’ tall hell’s angel boyfriend who is now just itching to fight. Just as Norm starts to get himself in a little too deep however, there’s a break in the traffic and as the chorus says, “don’t you ever let a chance go by”. And Norm’s off! So this is what I was actually thinking about as I tried to avoid what Neanderthals the North Shore apparently had to offer on Saturday night. Amidst wandering hands and not so subtle stares, if my exit was clear, baby I was there.

Friday, February 04, 2005

When It Rains It Pours

Today, outside your front door you will find a mildly sunny day around the mid twenties, interspersed with periods of black skies, high wind, damaging hail and torrential rain. Although I possibly exaggerated the torrential rain part, that statement would pretty much describe one of the days we had this week in Sydney. This wasn’t an entirely bad thing however, as I wasn’t out in it and we currently need all the rain we can get. It just goes to show though that when it rains it definitely pours.

Two of my friends can also sympathize with that sentiment at the moment as they are both single but have recently found themselves with a variety of options opening up before them. And indeed for one it would seem that there is a veritable smorgasbord of possibilities on the dessert platter of relationships at the moment. But even though it is also said that variety is the spice of life, sometimes it’s just a headache. Things don’t necessarily get easier just because there are more options.

Everyone is different. We all have our strengths and our weaknesses, not only in who we are but also in what we can offer. Our hearts and our heads may even go to war as we believe one choice to be the smarter and feel another to be the more fulfilling, at least in the short term. Being outside the situation I see my friends in, I have tried to play agony aunt and give them council when they ask but for the most part I feel largely unqualified. It has been interesting though to hear what others have had to say as I often find people come at things from completely different angles.

Through some of my observations though, I would have to say that life really is like a box of chocolates. To use it as a metaphor for relationships, if you’re the kind of person who wants to find the perfect one without looking at the guide and you nibble a bit of everything until you find it, you may get a rather bad taste in your mouth before you (eventually) find the right one. And if the right one doesn’t satisfy, all that might be left is a lot of half eaten bits of chocolate with fingerprints and slobber all over them. Oh, and you can be sure that you’ll never be offered a nice box of chocolates again by any of your friends.

Also, if you’re the kind of person who is really greedy and likes to take one chocolate after another and more than one at a time then you’ll probably end up with quite a belly ache. Likewise if your plate was full when you started and now you’re trying to cram one more thing in. So the moral of the story? Take the time to decide what you want, you’ll probably enjoy it more. Try to leave a good impression when you eat chocolates and don’t ask me for relationship advice you want to understand.

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

Sexy Is The Word - Or Not

Someone sent me a whole series of short quizzes today at work. These provided the means by which I could work out which 2004 hit song best symbolised me (Britney Spears’ ‘Toxic’ apparently – take that how you will) and whether I had an A+ personality (unfortunately not as the case may be). There was also a quiz to find out how old I act. As it turns out, I appear to be 29 (which is not actually my age). So now at the same time as I am contemplating just when I started to grow older without my notice, I am still trying to figure out if I’m starting to become a prude.

Now I would have thought that I was a fairly open minded person. I have no objection to same sex couples in public and whilst living in Europe, I found no difficulty with the somewhat more relaxed attitudes to sex and the body. Some of my friends have an interest in life drawing and I myself have an interest in photography and have been involved in several projects over the years. I am also partial to dancing and yes, have occasionally sought attention in public by showing off with both males and females. Last weekend however, whilst out at a bar, I saw two girls dancing together in a manner that I can only describe as rather vulgar.

If there was actually a market for Sluts ’R Us, then these girls could have been executives. At the time I saw them, they already had the ‘I’m obviously so drunk I’ll agree to anything’ look down pat. They were both wearing little dresses and swishing each other’s skirts and doing the ‘see how easy our clothes would be to take off, you just have to lift the dress up like so’ move. And in case you had any doubts about what they were after that night, you only had to observe the ‘imagine how much fun it would be to run your hands down our chests or all over our arses just like we’re doing to each other’ routine to know they were out for some fun.

In addition to this, just so they weren’t mistaken for lesbians, they would at random intervals look around to check that they were still receiving attention from any males in the vicinity. And in case you missed this (or couldn’t actually pick which bouncing babe you liked more) they would occasionally prove they could count higher than two and pull a guy over to prove that ‘things really happen in threes’. All in all, their behaviour was about as subtle as a sledgehammer, and to me, about as painful as one. So now I am hoping several things. One, that I wasn’t the only one who thought this. Two, that I’m not becoming stodgy. And three, that I never have to see a display like that again.